


Inhale

by unsettled



Category: Body of Lies (2008)
Genre: M/M, Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-07
Updated: 2010-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: He spends entirely too much time attempting to identify what it is about that scent that makes him swallow, hard, and fight the urge to lean closer still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inhale

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: So… linndechir said in reply to Safe: Am I the only one who's absurdly turned on by Hani's smell?
> 
> NO, said my brain. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. And then this was born in the comment box.

Roger always sits a little closer than is quite proper when he meets with Hani. He's sure Hani notices this; more than sure, because there's a certain lift to the corners of his mouth when Roger readjusts his chair that's _amusement_; but Hani doesn't say anything, and doesn't discourage him, and that's all Roger needs to keep doing it.

Because when he's this close, he can catch the slightest hint of scent - of something complex and tantalizing and curling round him like the smoke from Hani's cigars - that overlays the usual curiously odorless smell of offices and formality and secrets. He spends entirely too much time attempting to identify what it is about that scent that makes him swallow, hard, and fight the urge to lean closer still. To step too close and curl his hand around the lapel of Hani's jacket and breathe in against the line of Hani's shirt, flood his senses with smell he can almost taste.

When it happens, despite Roger's best intentions otherwise, Hani stills, hand barely raised from the table; until Roger breathes out, loudly and shakily and hot against Hani's neck, presses frantic, desperate lips to the corner of Hani's jaw, brushing against stubble in a manner that makes Hani shudder, makes his hand come up and close on the fabric of Roger's shirt, pulling him closer. Roger licks a trail above Hani's collar, and Hani makes a sharp sound, delicious and stunned. Roger barely hears it, overwhelmed instead by the smell of smoke and musk and sensual, rich resin, something sharp and heady and tasting faintly sweet, like honey; he's lost in the intensity of it, and he gasps in surprise when Hani pulls his chin up and kisses him, moans into his mouth like he's no control at all, and he _hasn't_...

It's only hours later - after they've managed to restore themselves to some vague semblance of normalcy long enough to call off any meetings and disappear, after they've found themselves somewhere private and found also that they can't even make it to a bed, that Roger is needy enough to push Hani against the wall of the hallway and kneel before him, arms wrapped around Hani's thighs as he sucks him, nuzzling the lush hair that still, even here, smells faintly of something more than musk and sweat - only afterward, as Roger curls around Hani on the bed they managed to stumble to, that he realizes what it is about that scent that drags him in and undoes him utterly.

It's _Hani_.


End file.
